I'm Getting Better For Me
by EmmyGoldsworthy13
Summary: "I'm not getting better for Her, for my friends, or my parents. I'm getting better for me." What I think was going through Eli's mind during Love Roulette and afterwards. One-shot.


**Hey guys! R&R, pleease. **

**Disclaimer; I don't own Degrassi or any of it's characters.**

I rolled my eyes slightly as Fiona told 'Ari' to follow the script. And suddenly, I wasn't Ari anymore. I was the heartbroken, crazy guy that was being thrown farther into the emotional turmoil with every breath. I almost chanted the countdown in my head until I exploded.

"What _script?_ There _is_ no script! You can't write your life!" I shouted angrily, and I was aware of the cold, confusedness silence coming from the audience, but right now, I simply didn't care. "No matter how many of you want a happy ending, you _can't have it._" I yelled to the audience, standing up from the bench and facing them, the stage lights centered on my still form towards the middle of the stage. I gulped as I continued. "I _tried_ to write one… but, it's _impossible._ I rewrote and rewrote, but things kept changing." I glanced at Imogen, standing by the camera, looking at me with a hint of forgiveness in her eyes. But nothing mattered. "And I… I _knew_ they were hurting. But I didn't stop, because your mind… it _tricks _you." I said scarily, pointing my shaking index finger to my head, getting hotter and hotter from the warm rays of the stage lights with every passing second. "It tricks you into thinking things are fine. But they're _not_ fine! _Nothing's _fine! It's all _wrong!" _I ranted loudly and angrily, glancing at Clare as I gathered up enough courage to say what I wanted to say. "_I_ went wrong." I said indirectly for her, looking at her for a moment, noticing her glistening eyes as she listened to me. I felt a tug on my heart as I saw her unshed tears, but I quickly restrained it.

Because, like she said herself, we would _never _get back together.

"That's it. There's no happy ending." I said miserably, digging in my red blazer's pocket for the silver square of metal. I clicked it open and pressed the gauge with my thumb, igniting the flame as I took my script and held it close to the small square of fire. The fire felt like the dark feeling I had inside of me, the feelings burning my life to the point of being able to hear the small sizzling sound as it scorched. I let my burning script, _my masterpiece,_ fall to the stage floor, and I sank down to my knees as I watched the flames lick the very corners of my life. And as I watched it burn, it meant more to me that simply a script to my play. It felt like my entire life; my past, my present, and future. Was I just supposed to sit here and watch my life be destroyed?

No. I needed to get help, to get _better._

"_Lights._" Fiona called, and then walked over to me and gave me a pointed look to stand up and bow, before her heels clicked across the stage once again to join the already growing line of people facing the audience. I stood and forced myself to bow, not nearly as happy as I thought I would've been when this very same scene had flashed through my head already so many times before. In my dreams, my nightmares, my reality; it was there. I felt tears prick behind my eyes for the first real time in a while. I lifted my head after my bow to see Clare, a tear straggling from her eye, a few more of them still unshed. She quickly looked away and wiped one eye with the back of her hand, not letting me look at her one final time. I sighed. My parents greeted me and took me backstage, only to discuss with Mrs. Dawes about my 'brilliance'.

Yeah, right. I walked off during the middle of the conversation, only to find myself to be back on the horror story known as the stage. I saw my burnt script lying there on the ground towards the front of the stage, the light fan in the room blowing away the small, brown, crispy pieces as they swirled. I picked it up, thinking about this inanimate object as my life, and then slammed in down onto the ground with as much force as I could possibly use. I sank down on the bench behind me miserably, burying my face in my hands as I let the struggling tear fall. I heard footsteps, and I quickly wiped my eye as I saw Bullfrog cautiously approaching me.

"Everyone's talking… inspiring. Looks like you're a hit." He said with a smirk, but then it quickly faltered when my despair reached my facial expression and eyes.

"I'm a fraud." I muttered softly and angrily, putting my head back in my hands again. That wasn't part of the play, it was _me._ It was _my_ life, my corroding happiness, my last bit of strength to get everything out and reveal it before I spiraled into this.

"That wasn't Ari up there, was it?" He asked, and I felt his eyes on me, but I kept mine staring down at the floor. "Your principal told me about the little mix-up, today." He said, coughing shortly. "You haven't been taking your meds, _have you?"_ He asked, and I gave up the act I'd been playing off-stage. I chuckled sardonically.

"Does it _matter?_ Meds or no meds, she hates me." I said bluntly, but it was true. She hated me, but I still _loved_ her.

"I want to _scream_ at you, Eli, for lying to us this whole time. But I can't. Because I'm afraid of what you'll do. If you'll hurt yourself…" He said, sighing, assumedly thinking about after Julia died, when cutting my wrists with a razor blade was my last resort of control.

"I won't." I said truthfully, meeting his eyes for the first time, seeing the glistening surfaces of them. I know that I couldn't and shouldn't do it ever again. It left too many scars, outside _and_ inside of myself.

"Your mom and I… we always kind of let you do your own thing." He said, a faraway look in his eyes. "We gotta' start treating you like a kid… watching out for you better." He said, the tear threatening to spill over the rim of his eye.

"Don't blame yourself." I said, knowing it was nobody's fault but my own. I finally realize that. "I wouldn't let you help me." I told him, and he looked at me, keeping his tears at bay. "I want to get better." I finished, and he seemed like he had a tiny sliver of hope in his eyes at my words.

"So you can get Clare back?" He said amusedly, trying to break the deafening tension between us and around us. Why should I try to get Clare back, when she didn't want me in return? She hated me. She broke my heart every single time she looked at me, because when I looked into her clear, azure eyes, it brought back all of the happy memories that I wish wouldn't bring me pain to think about. Because I knew that nothing like it would _ever_ happen again, because she hated me. So why should I even try, anymore? I'm done trying.

"I want to get better for _me." _I said softly with finality, and my dad's tear finally fell over the edge. But it wasn't a sad tear, or an angry one, or a sorrowful one.

It was a happy tear.

"Dad." I mumbled quietly as he leaned toward me and wrapped his burly arms around my shoulders, squeezing me lightly as it felt as if we were the only people here.

Because now, I was getting better for _myself. _

_X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

"This is good, Eli. We're gonna' try some new things; family therapy stuff, tweak the meds." He told me, pushing through the wooden doors, patting me on the back lightly.

"Did you _have_ to take me out of school?" I asked, using my desperate tone to possibly rever my dad's decision.

"It's only for a couple days. The doc said the mental holiday will give you a chance to reset." He said, squeezing my left shoulder lightly. I mentally groaned.

"'Guess I won't miss much." I muttered, disgruntled.

"No, I gotta' sign your absence form, okay?" He asked, meeting my eyes briefly, silently telling me to stay and wait.

"I'll meet you in the car." I said matter-of-factly, walking past a classroom as the bell rang, watching my dad go into the office. As I passed by another classroom, my favorite curly-haired, blue-eyed girl strode out, meeting my eyes for a second, and then stopped in her tracks and looked away. I just slung my bag farther up my shoulder, walking away from her still form in the hallway. My first instinct was to act as if everything was okay, but I realized I didn't need to.

Because everything was fine, I was getting _better._ For the first time, I didn't need to put on the act anymore. I let my feelings out through the play, put my thoughts and heartbreak into it. I didn't have to act, it was _my story. _I gave it my _all._

But… off-stage, I was the real actor. I put on this façade for everyone, making everyone think I was fine, that I wasn't heartbroken on the inside. And everyone believed it, because I'm a terrific actor. I've done it every single day of my life since Julia died. I've always put my doubts and sadness at the back of my mind, and hid it, and acted like I was fine. But I was never fine before this. Right now… I was truly _fine. _

And it felt _good_ for a change.

I didn't look back, knowing that if I did, I would see her, happy and content that I was out of her life. She'd be happy that she could finally be with Jake like how she wanted. But I could risk one glance, right? Why did it matter? I swiftly looked over my shoulder, to see a sea of students flooding from classrooms, leaving the sad Clare Edwards standing in the hallway, looking after me.

This was shock to me. Why wasn't she happy? Why did she look like she wanted to run, like she wanted to follow me? I didn't have the answer. She hated me. Why was she looking at me like that? I turned around, my eyebrows pinned together. Her expression lingered in my thoughts, and I saw the look in her eyes for the second time. I shook it away.

She didn't want me, she would never want me. I'm the guy she broke up with.

"_I broke up with that guy!" _Her words had haunted me, before. But now, they didn't matter. Because I was getting better for _myself. _Not for her, not for my friends, not for my parents. For _me._

So I just continued to stride down the hallway, a smirk finding its way onto my face.

I'm not doing it for anybody. I'm getting better for _me. _

_**End.**_

_**So, did you like? Love it? Hate it? Leave a review, pleasee! **_


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